


V is for Venezuela

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Around the World in 26 Days [22]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Napoleon learns that sometimes, battle scars can’t be seen.  Thankfully, Illya is there to help.





	V is for Venezuela

**Author's Note:**

> This references a fic I wrote last year called “Requiem of Spirit.”

Illya kept his grumbling to a minimum as they traversed the jungles of Venezuela. It was his own fault that they had to walk the distance, after all; in an oversight that was most unlike him (he had been uncharacteristically giddy as of late due to their recent promotions after defeating the Baron of THRUSH), Illya had forgotten to ensure that their small plane had been sufficiently refueled.

Napoleon, of course, didn’t blame him; he had admitted that he, too, should have been keeping an eye on the fuel gauge (he’d been just as giddy for the same reasons as Illya, after all—though defeating the Baron had, alas, included a nasty tumble over Niagara Falls for him). And true to his optimistic nature, Napoleon had seen the silver lining--

“It’ll be a lot harder for THRUSH to track us in the jungle than if we were zooming around in the air,” he said. “And we’re making pretty good time. I think we should be able to make it to Canaima without much trouble; we can hitch a ride from there if we can find some generous tourists.”

“Well, it is a plan,” Illya agreed. “And the best one for now…” He trailed off as some of the trees gave way, allowing them to see the far-off cliffs. “Napoleon, I believe that is Angel Falls—the tallest falls in the world!”

Napoleon glanced ahead at the falling water, barely paying attention to Illya exclaiming that it was good to reassure their bearings. His heart was hammering in his chest, and sweat was pouring down his face—and an unpleasant sensation rose in his gut as, unbidden, memories of falling over Niagara returned to him.

“Napoleon? _Napoleon_!?”

When he returned to awareness, he was lying on the forest floor, with Illya supporting his upper body in his arms—and wearing a look of concern on his face.

“What happened?” Napoleon asked, baffled.

“You fainted…” Illya said.

“I… _what_?” Napoleon exclaimed. He groaned, realizing that he felt sore—as he would have from falling over. “…I must be coming down with something—malaria or dengue…”

“I am not so sure…” Illya said. “You were fine until just a moment ago… Right up until…” He trailed off again, glancing back at Angel Falls. “Napoleon, I think you might have fainted because of the falls.”

“Oh, come one!” Napoleon said. “Just because I fell off of one doesn’t mean--”

“Napoleon, you were in a stupor for hours after your fall; your wounds were clearly psychological—and to quite a degree.”

“Just what are you implying!?” Napoleon asked, getting defensive.

“I am implying nothing,” Illya assured him. Napoleon didn’t seem convinced, and Illya sighed. “Look, Napoleon… Let’s say that the fall had given you a broken arm.”

“But it didn’t.”

“Let’s just pretend it did. It would have taken time to heal, correct?”

“Of course.”

“And in that time, you would not want to put any strain on it—you would not climb things or lift heavy things with it, correct? You would wait until your arm had healed.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see the point.”

“The point is, Napoleon, that your wounds were not physical. But you need time to heal them all the same. They will heal, I am certain of it. You will be able to look at Angel Falls without flinching. But not today.”

Napoleon exhaled, looking suddenly resigned.

“I didn’t want to admit it, but I had a feeling that my recurring nightmares about Niagara were more than just nightmares.”

Illya blinked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, softly.

“…Because I wanted them to be nothing,” Napoleon muttered. “I mean, it wasn’t as though I’m getting them every night. Once a week, maybe—twice, tops.”

Illya looked at him with a gentle expression.

“Well, the next time you have one of these nightmares, wake me. We will talk, and you might find that helpful.”

Napoleon nodded, and managed a smile.

“Thank you, _Tovarisch_.”

“Anytime, Napoleon. Anytime. Now, come with me; I can find a more roundabout way to Canaima that will minimize how much we see Angel Falls.”

And they continued on their way, together.


End file.
